


Lost Goddess

by TheMightyGhost



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Abusive Parents, Affection, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chubby Thor, Cunnilingus, Daddy Issues, Death Threats, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Face-Sitting, Family Issues, First Time Blow Jobs, Huddling For Warmth, Jealous Loki (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Kidnapping, Light Angst, M/M, Marvel Norse Lore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Multi, Mutilation, Not Canon Compliant, Nudity, Open Marriage, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Pregnancy, Shapeshifting, Stabbing, Threats, Threats of Violence, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, soft thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-27 01:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20752028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyGhost/pseuds/TheMightyGhost
Summary: A little lost goddess gets abducted by two powerful gods





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, beautiful young Sága, so sweet, so innocent…”

It took all her willpower to hold her nerve. His blade was pressed against her throat, digging in deep enough for a droplet of blood to start trickling down her neck. She took small breaths, doing what she could to remain as still as possible. She would not succumb to her fear. She had to be brave.

“It will be  _ such _ sweet bliss when I claim you for my own.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut as she desperately tried to prevent herself from crying. She had to be strong. She had to be brave. Like her mother. Think of her mother. Think of how strong and proud her mother was. Think of her, not of her impending doom. Think of the strong, proud Valkyrie warrior that her mother was. Not the knife pressed against her skin, not the Jötunn looming over her like an encroaching shadow. Think of her mother. 

The blade tore down sharply, forcing a scream out of her when the front of her flimsy dress was torn wide open. She tried to conceal herself from his eyes, she tried to crouch down and cover herself with the ragged remains of her dignity, but he wouldn’t let her. He pressed the tip of the blade to her throat again, this time nudging her chin up with it, forcing her into a staring match. 

“I would not be shy of my body if I looked the way you do,” he purred. If he was trying to seduce her, it wasn’t working. She was cold, she was scared, she was on the brink of breaking down into hysterics. There was nothing nice about being at the mercy of a dark god. 

The sound of rustling caused little Sága to flinch and cry out when the knife nicked her chin. The menacing blue deity before her scowled angrily, not at her but at the lumbering golden haired oaf who stumbled into the clearing, as naked as the day he had been born.

“Thor, you bumbling fool!” He seethed, glaring at the round-bellied muscular man irritably. The Jötunn god turned his attention back on Sága, who was trembling and trying to stem the flow of blood coming from the cut on her chin. It may have been a trick of the light, but his crimson eyes seemed to soften as he regarded her almost fondly. “Allow me to kiss it better, little starchild.”

His lips were surprisingly soft. She let out an involuntary whimper, feeling the surge of seiðr coming from him, the cut sealing shut. With trembling lips, she managed to smile at him, which in turn earned her a smile from him. For a moment at least, she could forget what he had been intent on doing to her.

The other god, the golden one called Thor, stumbled over towards them with a voluminous bellow of laughter that reminded her of stormy nights. “Aha! So at last we have found the missing link! Brother, she is so little, how will she take us both?”

Sága’s eyes widened.

“Take you?” she whimpered out. “What does _ that  _ mean?”

“Have you not explained it to her yet, Loki?” Thor asked his apparent brother, though Sága couldn’t see the family resemblance herself. 

Loki scoffed. “I was about to when you so rudely interrupted us!”

“Is that why our young maiden is without her clothes? Come here, little lamb.” 

Thor was much more warm and inviting than the cold harshness of Loki. Sága didn’t feel the urge to shy away from the larger man, eagerly stepping into his embrace. He was warm and soft and hairy and he smelled like honey and milk. 

“You are going to crush her, brother,” came a rather snide remark from Loki.

“Nonsense! She is tougher than she appears!” Thor smacked her back as though to prove his point, which only resulted in Sága falling over and landing quite painfully on the ground. 

“Idiot!” 

Cold hands gently lifted her head up, calloused thumbs wiping away her tears. “Oh, sweet starchild,” Loki cooed, lifting her up as though she weighed nothing. “We have been going about this all wrong, haven’t we? We cannot threaten you as though you were a common whore, can we?”

“I suppose not…” Sága whispered, staring down at her bare feet. She was becoming increasingly confused by the entire situation. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“We want you,” Thor said, bringing a fur blanket over her shoulders, the origin of the blanket unknown to her, but she didn’t dwell on it. She tugged the furs around her more securely, appreciating how warm they were. “The Norns foretold of our union.”

“I don’t hold the Norns in high regard,” Sága proclaimed, annoyed when the brothers laughed. “I am not jesting! The Norns are the reason my mother is dead! If I wished to listen to them, then I would be a bigger fool than the pair of you!”

Loki scowled. “Do not speak to us in such a manner, little demon. Need I remind you I can so very easily slice that pretty little neck of yours…”

“Loki, do not threaten her. She is upset, you will only traumatise her further.” Thor reached out for her and Sága gratefully accepted his hand, allowing herself to be pulled up into his arms. She turned her head towards a rather irate Loki, poking her tongue out which served to make him glower at her, crimson eyes flashing dangerously. 

Thor carried her through the trees, letting the silence consume them. Sága rested her head on his shoulder, keeping a watchful eye on the golden god’s Jötunn brother. She smirked when he tripped over a root, poking her tongue out again when he caught her laughing at him. She felt much braver now that she was in Thor’s arms; she knew he’d keep her safe. 

They stepped out of the treeline and emerged into a rather chilly setting. Closeby, there was a sleigh of sorts with two great hulking boars hitched to it. Sága eyed them warily when their beady eyes fixed on her, their tusks looking even more lethal than Loki’s knife.

“They will not hurt you,” Thor assured her. 

Sága didn’t quite believe him.

Still, she allowed herself to be carefully placed into the back of the sleigh, nestled amongst a pile of furs. She tucked herself into the corner when Loki joined her, marvelling at him when his blue skin changed to a pale white. 

“Why are you not blue anymore?” she asked.

“Never you mind,” came his curt response. His crimson eyes were gone, replaced by emerald green. He stared at her as she stared at him, studying his smooth complexion. “It is rude to stare.”

“It’s rude to threaten to stab somebody, but that didn’t stop you,” she countered, pleased when Thor, who was sitting up front with the reins, laughed heartily.

Loki didn’t respond to that. 

As the sleigh started moving along, Sága found herself edging closer and closer towards Loki. He didn’t say anything and neither did she, not even when she ended up falling into his lap after an especially sharp turn. She stayed in his lap, letting him hold onto her so she wouldn’t fall over again, allowing herself to observe her surroundings. 

It was lightly snowing, with trees stretching to the eastern side, mountains rising before them, and the sound of the ocean coming from the near distance to the west. They were traversing along a cliffside path, the drop quite substantial. Sága whimpered in fright, burying her face into Loki’s chest. 

“If I fall,” she whispered, “I’m taking you with me.”

“Charming.”

“That’s what you get for hurting me!” She glared up at him. “Why did you remove my clothes? I thought you were going to… to…” 

“To what? To claim you without your consent?” He scoffed. “I am not completely heartless. I merely wished to scare you into complying with my wishes.”

“Isn’t that… isn’t that the same?” 

“Shut up.”

Sága frowned but didn’t say anything. Maybe he was just a difficult person. Maybe he felt the need to threaten her because he wasn’t good at interacting with others. It had all been words after all, except for him removing her dress. He had even healed the cut on her chin, which he had seemed quite remorseful about. Maybe he was playing the villain? Maybe that was why Thor seemed like her hero at the time- was it their way of manipulating her into coming with them? Did they want her to trust Thor enough that she’d let him carry her away?

The wind was howling around them and she was shivering despite the furs blanketing her. Although she appreciated Loki holding her, he wasn’t warming her up. So she decided to sit up front with Thor. 

She scrambled onto the seat next to him and wormed her way onto his lap, nearly entangling herself in the reins in the process. Thor just chuckled and guided her into a more secure position, hooking one strong arm around her whilst steering one-handed. 

He was warmer than Loki. Warm and soft and squishy. She began to feel dopey, her head lulling back, her eyes drifting shut. She was dimly aware of Thor’s rumbling voice calling for his brother, she was aware of herself being carried into the back of the sleigh and tucked up next to Thor, presumably with Loki taking the reins. She preened when the soft golden haired god pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his large hands running along her back and nestling against her pert bottom. 

When she woke up, the sky was darkening. There were green lanterns hanging from all four corners of the sleigh, and two green lights affixed to the collars the boars were wearing. She felt warmer than she had before her sleep, and when she stretched, she found herself nudging into the slumbering form of Thor. 

The sleigh was still moving onwards, trees surrounding them, the path at an angle. They were heading along a mountain path she gathered, to where she still had no clue. 

Her belly rumbled.

“Thor?” she whispered, unwilling to disturb the shadow sitting at the front of the sleigh. “Thor, I’m hungry.”

The slumbering god blearily opened one eye. “Hm? Hungry, you say?” He sat up and reached for a satchel she hadn’t noticed before, pulling out a thick loaf of bread, some goats cheese, and some smoked ham. She eyed the ham warily.

“Should we be eating ham?” she asked him nervously. 

Thor seemed to take a moment to realise what she meant. Once he understood her, he burst out laughing. “I am sure eating ham will not upset the boars.” 

Up front, Loki gave a snort of laughter. “Is she under the impression the boars care what we eat? Given half the chance, they would eat each other!”

Sága blushed. “I didn’t want to upset them, that was all.” 

Thor chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. 

He cut her some slices of bread and she helped herself to the cheese, avoiding the ham for the time being. As she nibbled on the bread, she decided to ask Thor a question. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going home.”

“Whose home? My home? Your home? His home?”

“Our home.” Thor bit into his sandwich of cheese and ham, crumbs spilling down his front and into his braided blond beard. 

“ _ Our  _ home?”

“Bilskirnir.”

“Huh?”

“Bilskirnir. She is a beautiful hall set in the mountains near Asgard. You will have your own room, with as many books as you desire.” Thor wrapped a muscular arm around her skinny shoulders, smiling almost wistfully. 

Sága didn’t know what to make of it all. “But I already have a home… in Sökkvabekkr. I don’t want another home.” She started tearing up, water falling onto her bread. “Why did you take me?”

“The Norns-”

“I don’t care about the Norns!” she wailed, interrupting Thor. At the front of the sleigh, Loki stilled, listening intently. “I want to go home! I want to go back to my home, not to some horrible hall in the mountains! You stole me from my home!” 

“Little lamb…”

Quite abruptly and quite spur of the moment, Sága decided to do something stupid. She stood up and launched herself out of the sleigh, landing in a pile of freshly fallen snow with a muffled thud. 

She pushed herself to her feet and started running into the darkening forest, the furs billowing around her. She heard them shouting her name but that only spurred her on, and she ran and ran and ran until her bare feet were torn to shreds, and even then she kept running, flying between the trees, dodging elusive wildlife, until finally she reached the banks of a raging river. 

She tried to stop herself in time, but she couldn’t. Flailing, the furs flew from her as she fell face first into the rapids, the icy water stabbing her bare skin like a thousand needles. She choked and spluttered, kicking uselessly against the torrent, shrieking for dear life. She bumped into a boulder, then another, and then her stomach dropped when she found herself falling through the air, screaming herself hoarse. 

She landed with a smack at the base of the waterfall, the force of the water pushing her head under the surface. She couldn’t fight it, she couldn’t break free, her lungs were screaming in protest, her body weakening. She was nearly falling unconscious when a blue hand grabbed onto her ankle, yanking her towards the bank.

Oxygen filled her lungs. She gasped and coughed, retching up water, shaking violently. She was aware of a voice, slowly managing to comprehend the words being spoken.

“Thank the Norns you’re alive!” Loki whispered, sounding close to tears. He embraced her tightly, and Sága let out a weak sob, followed by another, until she was crying in his arms. “Why did you run, you foolish girl?!”

“Scared…” she sniffled, gazing into his crimson eyes. His skin shifted, becoming slightly warmer as he lost his Jötunn visage. “Why did you steal me?”

“Because you are important.” He hesitated before kissing the tip of her red nose. “You were being kept hidden away in Sökkvabekkr, we are liberating you.”

“But…”

“It was foretold you would bind us together. Without you, we would be at constant war. With you, there would be a small semblance of peace.” 

“Only small?”

“We cannot expect miracles, can we?” he chuckled. “Come along, let’s get back to the sleigh.”

Upon their arrival back to the sleigh, Thor enveloped Sága into a suffocating embrace, sobbing and howling as though she had been lost for a thousand moons. 

“Oh, my little lamb!” he wailed. “We thought you dead!”

“She will be if you do not stop squeezing her, brother!” Loki sniped, managing to wrest Sága free of Thor’s embrace. “She is bruised all over, she nearly drowned, you must be gentle with her!”

“What happened!” 

“I was in this fight with this bear,” Sága explained to Thor as they got settled in the back of the sleigh, Loki taking the reins once again. “He pushed me into the river! I fell down a waterfall and I would have died, but Loki saved me!”

“Such a cruel bear,” Loki added, smirking over his shoulder at her. 

“Very cruel.” She smiled shyly back at him, the exchange noticed by Thor, but he merely smiled, pleased they weren’t being hostile with each other. 

Sága curled up into a tight ball next to Thor, wrapped up in far too many furs, letting herself be rocked to sleep by the motions of the sleigh. She must have slept for quite some time, because when she awoke, they were ascending a steep mountain path with the sun set high in the sky.

She peered over the edge and shrieked at the drop. Instantly, arms pulled her away, and she found herself being forced to sit on Loki’s lap. 

“Foolish girl.” 

“I was only looking!”

Loki didn’t seem convinced, but she was being genuine. He kept his arms around her, humming softly under his breath all the while. She liked hearing him hum, it showed a softer side to him she hadn’t expected. 

“Loki?”

“Mm?”

“Why did you threaten me? If you had explained the situation, I would have come willingly.”

He hesitated. 

“I was afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes. Afraid that you would reject us. Reject me. I thought that by threatening you and stealing you away, I could force you into staying.”

He seemed surprised when she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You were afraid of me,” she teased. Immediately, his face darkened.

“Do not push your luck, starchild. I was not afraid of you, I was afraid of being rejected.” He huffed when she growled at him playfully, giggling when he started tickling her mercilessly. 

“Truce! Truce!” She squealed, giggling even more when he started peppering her face with tiny little kisses. 

The sleigh came to a shuddering halt.

Looking around, Sága stared in astonishment at the beautiful stone carved building perched on the side of the mountain. It was expansive, well-fortified, and clearly well-lived in. She could hear livestock coming from inside the boundaries of the structure, she could see the tops of trees, she could hear birds singing. 

A set of rusted gates screeched open, allowing Thor to guide the boars and the sleigh into the compound. The gates slid shut behind them, but Sága ignored it in favour of staring at the luscious scene before her.

“Welcome to Bilskirnir,” Thor said with a wide smile. 

There were golden haired children running amok, there were goats grazing close by, there were men and women training in an arena, there were many voluptuous women sporting pregnant bellies. In fact, there seemed to be a remarkable amount of pregnant women.

“Why are there so many pregnant women?” she asked Loki.

“Thor is a God of Fertility.”

“A God of… Oh. Oh! So… are those his children?” She pointed to a pair of golden haired girls who were weaving flower crowns for one another.

“Those ones are, I believe. Many of the children here are Thor’s. Many are not.”

“Are they yours?” she asked cautiously.

“Oh heavens no. My children are far away from this place.” He smirked at the look on her face. “I am substantially older than you, Sága. As is Thor. We have lived a hundred lifetimes compared to your measly solitary lifetime. Alas, that will change now that you are here. We shall be stuck with one another until Ragnarök.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so instead she focused on waving at some of the pretty women watching them pass by on the sleigh. She was confused when Loki slapped her hand down, only to discover that he seemed jealous by her giving those women attention. She took note of that for later use.

After a long introduction to the household staff, Sága was shown to her room. It was a cosy abode, reminding her of Sökkvabekkr, with a personal library full to the brim with books she had yet to discover. 

She was bouncing on the soft bed when Thor arrived, holding a golden haired toddler in one arm, a slightly older girl holding his other hand. “This is Sága, children,” he explained to them, “Sága, this is Modi and this is Thrud.”

Modi, the little boy, waved at her shyly. Thrud smiled, giving a rather more enthusiastic wave. Sága found herself at a loss for what to do, so she simply waved back at them. 

Thor set Modi down on the bed, allowing the toddler to climb into Sága’s lap. She had never had experience with children before; being the youngest of her family and confined to Sökkvabekkr meant she didn’t interact with anyone younger than her. Gingerly, she held the toddler up, finding herself enjoying hugging him, his little face nuzzling into her neck.

“He likes you!” Thor boomed cheerfully. Thrud was still holding his hand, and when she tugged on his hand, Thor excused himself to take his daughter out of the room and presumably to a bathroom. As Thor left, Loki sauntered inside, smiling carelessly. He froze when he saw Sága holding Modi.

“Has he got you babysitting his children already?”

“Huh? Um, I don’t think so…?” Sága adjusted her hold on the toddler, who appeared to be half-asleep. “I think they wanted to see me.”

“Clearly.” Loki eyed the toddler for a moment. “I am looking forward to you holding a dark haired baby.”

“Huh?” 

His cheeks darkened. “Never mind.”

“Oh… okay.” Sága decided to ignore whatever it was he said, focusing on the baby in her arms. “I think he’s drooling on me.”

“I will give him back to his mother.” Loki extracted Modi from her arms, grimacing. “I shall be back presently.”

By the time he returned, Little Sága was sound asleep. Loki sighed softly, approaching the bed to tuck her in properly. He kissed her brow, brought the blankets around her, kissed her brow once more, before leaving her to get some much deserved rest. 

In the morning, they would discuss the future. For now, he would let her recover from her traumatic day. As he made to leave the room, however, a small voice said, “Stay…”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.” Sága sat up, rubbing at her eyes sleepily. She was trying and failing not to start crying. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please stay with me?”

Loki schooled his expression. “Very well.”

Sága gratefully draped herself over him when he got into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her securely. She let out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight, Sága.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sága struggles to adjust to life in Bilskirnir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't gonna write more but hey! here ya go.

Sága was having breakfast with Modi and Thrud when Loki found her. He paused, entranced by the young goddess sharing her food with two of Thor’s most rambunctious offspring. Unwittingly, the Jötunn found himself smiling, fantasising about the children being his own, daydreaming about her bearing his own heirs. 

“Uncle Loki!” Thrud shouted, startling Sága so much she knocked her glass of water over onto her clean dress. “Sorry, Sága!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Sága assured her, more embarrassed that Loki had caught her acting like a buffoon than anything else. She started dabbing at her dress with a napkin, half paying attention to the conversation Loki was having with a very enthusiastic Thrud.

A very beautiful dark haired woman with firm muscles and an air of power about her entered the room then, dressed in the finest armour and looking as if she was preparing herself for war. Sága’s jaw dropped. She was so… beautiful.

Loki’s jaw clenched when he noticed Sága’s expression. “Sif,” he said curtly, “Come to relieve us of your offspring?”

Sif shot Loki a glare. “Hold your tongue, Silvertongue.” Her expression softened when Modi and Thrud encroached on her, both of them delighted to see her. Sif’s focus shifted to Sága, who squirmed nervously, wishing she wasn’t covered in water. “I am Lady Sif, Thor’s wife.”

Sága blanched.

“Thor has a  _ wife?!” _

Both Sif and Loki started laughing.

“What! It isn’t funny!” Sága stood up on shaking legs. “Excuse me.”

She ran off before either of them could stop her, tears welling in her eyes. She was so confused. Was she only here to be another one of Thor’s broodmares? Why was she really here? Was she to keep Loki entertained? Did Thor even want her? What in all the Nine Realms was going on?!

So much for being stuck with each other until Ragnarök…

Sága swiftly returned to her chambers, crawling into the hideyhole she had unearthed last night after Loki had snuck out of her room, inadvertently waking her up in the process. She pushed the bookshelf back into place, closing her in and leaving her with only the light of a small candle to illuminate the small cramped space.

She had already thought to decorate the space; there was a soft blanket, a basket full of sweets the kitchen had thoughtfully provided for her, there were a few books to keep her entertained, along with spare candles should the one she was currently using went out. 

Reality was beginning to set in. 

She was far away from Sökkvabekkr. She was in a strange place with strange people. She was… a prisoner, wasn’t she? They’d taken her from her home, they had stripped her naked, they had claimed the Norns had bound their fates together, but Sága didn’t believe them, not anymore. The Norns had condemned her mother to a brutal death. She put no trust in those destiny weaving bastards.

“Sága?” she heard a booming voice echoing in the room outside her hideyhole. “Little lamb, where are you?”

She snuffed out the candle and drew the blanket over herself, terrified of being discovered. She would have to think of a way to get home. She would have to be clever. She would have to take her time devising a way out of Bilskirnir. It was a shame she was completely unfamiliar with her surroundings, else she would have had more confidence in her ability to make the trek back to Sökkvabekkr. Her family would be missing her. It was her own fault for wandering through the woods alone. She shouldn’t have left her home to indulge her simple desire to explore the woods. 

A second voice joined Thor’s. “Demon! Get out here at once!” Loki demanded. That stirred her ire. 

“MAKE ME!” she shouted back before she was able to stop herself. 

Silence.

The bookshelf was pulled back, opening up her hideyhole. Sága stayed huddled under the blanket, squeaking when she was forcibly dragged out by her ankles. “No!” she wailed, thrashing wildly. “Let go of me!”

She was thrown down onto the soft bed, whimpering when her forehead struck the headboard. She teared up, looking up at Loki, who was glaring down at her angrily. His expression faltered at the look on her face, one blue hand resting against her sore head. “Oh, my poor starchild…”

A warm presence settled next to her on the bed, strong arms drawing her backwards until she was sprawled out across a soft body. She tried to pull away, more tears flowing down her rosy red cheeks. “You never said you were married!” 

“It is not important, little lamb-”

“It is!” Sága bit Thor’s wandering hand, causing the Fertility God to drop her rather abruptly. She landed on the floor with a thud. “I want to go home!”

“You want to go home to a family who have kept you imprisoned for your entire life?” Loki spat out viciously. Sága flinched away from him, terrified at the power radiating from him, the burning crimson eyes, the ice spreading out from where he was standing on the floor. 

“You kidnapped me!”

“We liberated you!”

“LIAR!” Sága sprang up, lunging at Loki, doing her best to ignore the sheer cold chilling her to the core. “You were going to… you were going to… r-r-r-”

“Rape you?” he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head down, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. “Listen to me, demon, and listen well. If not for my brother’s intervention, I’d have gladly tossed you off the edge of this mountain the moment you started acting up. You are nothing more than a spoiled excuse for a goddess, and I wish more than anything the Norns hadn’t forced our fates together.”

“Loki!” Thor cried out, staggering off the bed, attempting to get to Sága in time to stop her. He didn’t of course, because as soon as Loki had finished speaking, the young goddess had yanked herself out of his grasp and bolted out of the room, tearing down the corridor sobbing profusely. 

Thor whacked Loki across the back of his head. “Imbecile!”

Loki scowled. “Oh, don’t act like you care for her. Else you would have told her the entire truth.”

“She need never know the entire truth, brother,” Thor retorted, electricity crackling around him ominously. “Find her. Apologise to her. And don’t return until you do.”

Loki reluctantly complied with his brother’s wishes. 

Sága found herself helping some of the pregnant women feed the boars. She was still uneasy around them, what with their sharp tusks and beady eyes, but she enjoyed helping out and getting to know the other residents of Bilskirnir. 

One in particular fascinated her. Járnsaxa was her name, a beautiful Jötunn woman with fire-red hair and glacier blue skin, her pregnant belly bared to the world, her naked breasts heavy and dripping with milk. Sága found herself carrying around Járnsaxa’s toddler Magni, who was the spit of his golden-haired father. Járnsaxa was clearly one of Thor’s lovers, the concept slightly unnerving to Sága: was that all she was going to be? Another lover in his king-sized bed?

Most of the pregnant women, she noticed, wore very little, freely embracing their naked forms. Sága decided that if she was going to be staying in Bilskirnir (at least until she worked out a way to return home) she would make herself feel more at home. So she stripped out of her new dress, leaving her bare save for the thin undergarments that barely covered her private parts and breasts.

She was splashing about in the mud with Magni when Loki approached, face like thunder. She ignored him in favour of continuing to play with the golden-haired toddler, giggling whenever he babbled a funny word.

Loki eyed Járnsaxa irritably when the Jötunn mother came over. “Why are you entrusting her with your child?” he snapped.

“Why not? She is Sága, is she not?” Járnsaxa smirked at the look on Loki’s face. “The children adore her. Which is good, for a future Allmo-”

“Hold your tongue!” Loki silenced her with a deathly glare. 

Járnsaxa just kept smirking, irritating him enough that he made to storm off, only to be stopped by a muddy hand grabbing his arm. “What in tarnation-” He stopped when he realised it was Sága. “Yes?”

Sága shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “You really upset me earlier.”

“Mhm.”

“I want you to apologise to me.”

Loki decided to ignore his brother’s words, rubbing more salt into the wound. “I will apologise just as soon as you decide to act your age. You should be thanking me for saving you!”

Her face contorted with disbelief and astonishment. 

“No! I will _ not _ thank you for stealing me from my home!” She shoved him hard, pushing him down into the mud with Magni. “I hate you!”

And with those words ringing in his ears, he watched little Sága turn and walk away, taking with her all semblance of hope that had dared to blossom in his ice-cold heart.

“She is young,” Sif said later that day as she fed Modi a bowl of mashed up carrots. “She is far away from home, she is surrounded by strangers… forgive her for lashing out. Give her time to settle and adjust.”

“I fear we do not have time,” Thor said quietly. “She is devious and clever, she undoubtedly has plans to leave Bilskirnir.”

“No wonder she and your brother clash, they are very much alike.” Sif wiped Modi’s face clean, smiling affectionately at the golden haired boy. “Perhaps you should invite her to your chambers tonight. Make her feel welcome.”

“Perhaps…” Thor sighed tiredly. “Abiding to what Fate decides is difficult. She is a sparkling jewel, Sif. She is divine, utterly divine. What are we going to do if she does leave?”

“Then she leaves, and we let her return to us in her own time, when she is ready to face her destiny.” Sif pulled her husband into a comforting embrace. “Let her spend the night with you, husband. Let her feel loved and wanted and needed. And in the morning, you can discipline that dunderhead of a brother of yours for being so obtuse and stubborn.”

Thor laughed. “I should save that honour for your fine self, my lady.”

“Mm, don’t tempt me. Now go, shoo! Get yourself ready for tonight!”

Thor laughed again, stealing a kiss from her before kissing Modi’s crown, bidding his wife and child goodnight. He had a bounce in his step as he instructed one of the passing servants to inform Sága that he was requesting her presence in his chambers tonight. His heart was fluttering with nervous excitement. He only hoped his brother wouldn’t interfere with their evening.

The servant Thor had asked to speak to Sága stepped around the corner, a green light flickering over their image to reveal a pale-skinned Loki. He wasn’t surprised by his brother’s audacity, however, his brother deserved to be punished for trying to deceive the God of Mischief. 

Sága had overheard Thor’s conversation with Sif, not willingly of course: she’d been attempting to escape the kitchen, but she hadn’t wanted to be seen by Thor, not in the state of mind she was in. That all changed when she heard what Thor planned on doing with her tonight. She was naturally curious, and part of her wanted Thor to spend more time with her. Loki was being his usual self, Sága merely wanted to feel the same warmth and affection Thor had shown her during their trek to Bilskirnir.

She had cleaned herself and dressed herself in a pretty pink dress, not bothering to wear anything else. She slipped through the shadows of the Hall, avoiding servants and various pregnant women, until eventually she came upon the large doors that led into the God’s personal chambers.

Silent as a mouse, Sága entered the room, barely opening the door, able to slip through the tiny gap so as not to cause too much of a disturbance. She found herself staring at an extravagant bed, larger than her room had been back in Sökkvabekkr. In the middle of the bed was Thor. And bouncing up and down on his lap was… Her?

Huh?

The noise of the door closing must have been loud enough to draw the attention of the couple on the bed. Thor’s eyes widened. “Little lamb… what…” He stared at the young goddess on his lap and then at Sága standing by the door. His face darkened. 

Thunder boomed directly above the Hall. Rain started pouring in torrents. Lightning broke across the night sky. Thor shoved the young goddess off of him, summoning a large hammer that fizzled with electric magic. Sága shied away in fright, gasping loudly when the hammer connected with her doppelganger.

Green light flickered from the impact zone. Seconds later, the familiar blue shape of Loki appeared, coughing and spluttering and looking rather more undignified than usual. He was, like Thor was, completely naked. 

“Be gentle with that bloody hammer of yours!” Loki reprimanded, rubbing at a sore spot on his head.

“You lying, deceitful-!”

“Ah ah ah, ‘tis not the first time I’ve pulled such a trick, brother dearest,” Loki mocked, laughing at the furious rage appearing on Thor’s rugged face. 

“What’s going on?” Sága piped up, cautiously stepping closer to the obscenely large bed. “Why were you pretending to be me?”

“Because, dear little demon, my brother intended to deflower you tonight. And I’m afraid I cannot allow that to happen.”

“Why not?”

Loki stood up, a salacious grin forming on his wicked, angular face. Behind him, Thor sat up, ignorant of the fact Sága kept blatantly ogling his exposed manhood. She quickly diverted her attention to Loki when he grabbed the front of her dress and forced it from her, leaving her just as naked as the pair of them. 

“Because, dear sweet innocent Sága, I intend to be the one who claims you first. And then once I have had my fill, my brother will have his way with you. For you belong to us now. Our fates are forever entwined. You belong to _ us _ . Never forget that.”

Sága did something then that neither her nor the brothers had been expecting. 

She fainted.

Sága stirred a few minutes later, cushioned between a sharp, angular body and a softer, warmer body. For a minute or two, she stayed quiet, listening to their hushed argument pertaining to Loki’s treatment of her. 

“I don’t want babies!” she blurted out.

They fell silent.

“I-I-I-I mean- I mean-” She rolled over, pressing her face into a pillow. “I don’t want you impregnating me! I don’t want to become a broodmare! I want babies when I’m older maybe, not now! Don’t impregnate me! Please!”

Another moment of silence.

Loki started laughing hysterically.

_ “Broodmare?”  _ He had tears of mirth in his eyes, slapping his palm down against his thigh. “You truly are an ignorant little creature!”

Sága pushed herself up so she could glare at him. “Shut up! Stop laughing at me! Stop it! STOP!” She covered his mouth with her hands, shrieking when he retaliated by tickling her mercilessly. She started laughing, trying to pull away from him, only for Thor to join in, tickling her until she was screaming for mercy.

“We are not going to impregnate you,” Thor assured her.

“But you’re a Fertility God…”

“And you are a Goddess of Knowledge, yet here you are, being incredibly airheaded,” Loki retorted before Thor could speak. “Besides, sexual pleasure doesn’t always come from penetration.”

Sága blinked in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

Loki and Thor exchanged a look. 

“Oh, it seems we have a  _ lot _ to teach you.”

They gave her matching grins, and Sága knew then that it was going to be a very,  _ very _ long night.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when things are looking up, Sága and Loki have another fight.

She had been told to lean against Thor with her legs spread wide open, and she had done just that. Her heart was beating wildly, she was finding it difficult to keep herself calm. What if they…? No. She had to stop thinking like that. But what if…? No. Stop it, Sága!

Loki lowered himself down, his blue hands resting on her soft thighs, the chill sending shivers through her. Thor’s warmth kept her from trembling, his strong, meaty arms making her feel safe and secure. He held her still when she made to jerk away from Loki’s mouth, the action startling her.

“Odin’s beard!” she shrieked. “Why are you putting your mouth down _ there?!” _

He didn’t answer her with his words. Instead, he ran his tongue along her slit and over her nub, forcing out a strangled moan from the back of her throat. 

Thor’s body vibrated as he chuckled, clearly amused by her response to Loki’s actions. “Does that answer your question, little lamb?” he murmured, brushing his fingers through her hair to keep it out of her face. 

Sága could only nod, whimpering when Loki’s tongue pushed between her wet folds, and it finally became apparent why he was actually called Silvertongue. Her eyes rolled back, her head fell against Thor’s belly, her fingers reaching down into Loki’s dark hair, her body responding instinctively to his ministrations. 

Thor removed her hands from his brother, bringing them to rest against his impressive manhood. Sága opened her eyes, shocked by how warm and silky soft his manhood felt to touch. She struggled wrapping her fingers around him fully, the thought of his sizeable girth inside of her making her feel nervous. She peered down at Loki’s manhood and had a similar thought, finding herself whimpering in fright as she imagined being split in half by the two gods.

“What are you fretting about now?” Loki mumbled, swiping a long line across her slit, his crimson eyes blazing. 

“How… how will… how will you… um… _ fit?” _

“Fit?”

“You’re both so… um… you’re both really… um…” She hid her face behind her hands, blushing up a storm. “I don’t want to be split in half!”

Loki started laughing shrilly. Thor scowled. 

“Brother! Be serious here! This is all new to her, do not humiliate her!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Loki wheezed, wiping a stray tear out from under his eye. “Darling, as much as I would love to fuck your tight little cunt, you are not ready. I merely wish to show you how I can bring pleasure to your sweet, soft little body…”

“So… I’ll still be a maiden?” she whispered almost shyly.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Good.” She closed her eyes, reaching for Thor’s large hands, placing them on her chest and belly. “I don’t want to upset my family when I go home.”

Silence.

“Go… home…? Even after everything, you still intend on leaving us!” Loki pulled away from her, betrayal and hurt evident on his face. Sága opened her eyes, frowning at him reproachfully.

“I barely know you! This isn’t a fairytale, Loki, I’m not in love with either of you after knowing you for two days! I am not a gullible, naive child!”

“You could have fooled me!”

“Loki-”

“No, shut up Thor. This is all your fault. If you hadn’t meddled with Midgard, if you hadn’t dragged me into your problems, none of this would have happened! I was perfectly content living my life without that little demon in it! So, go! Go home, precious Sága! Go, because I do not want you near me! You foul, loathsome beast!” 

“ENOUGH!”

Sága screamed when Thor stood up with her, clinging onto him for dear life. He was radiating power, electricity sizzling in his burning blue eyes. Loki sneered at his brother, cruel and unkind and uncaring, at least in Sága’s opinion.

“Tonight was supposed to be about myself and our little one, not you and your petty problems!” Thor held Sága closer to him, protecting her from the wrath of Loki. “I know it will take more than a few words to win her heart. It does not stop me from loving her now. You need to learn to trust Fate, brother. Else you will remain a sad, lonely old bastard. Now get out of my chambers before I kick you out myself.”

In the last few moments before Loki turned and left, Sága’s heart broke at the look on his face. Humiliation. Anger. Regret. Sorrow. Mistrust. She felt horrible, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was scared, she was far away from home, what else did he expect from her? 

“No, please…” she found herself whispering, reaching out towards Loki. “Please don’t leave!” 

She maneuvered her way out of Thor’s arms and launched herself at Loki, clinging onto him from behind, pressing her face into his rigid back. “Please! I’m scared! I’ve never been this far away from home, I don’t know what to do! Please don’t leave me! Please!”

Loki slowly turned around and crouched down so he was directly at eye level with her. His expression was taut, but his eyes gave him away. Sága tentatively brought her hands up to his face, marvelling at how finely crafted his cheekbones were. His eyes closed, and then opened when she leaned forward and pressed a hesitant little kiss to his lips. 

It was the exact moment Loki found himself hopelessly falling in love with his little demon. 

* * *

Sága awoke well-rested, having exhausted herself from crying last night. She smiled to herself when she realised she was surrounded by two strong gods, both of them snoring, both of them clinging onto her as though she was their most precious possession. She preened: she was, wasn’t she? It felt nice being wanted. Being needed. 

Feeling emboldened and, remembering what Loki had done with his tongue last night, Sága decided to try something. She shimmied beneath the duvet and situated herself between Thor’s large, muscular legs. His manhood was half-hard, growing harder when she wrapped her hands around his girth. Rather like a nervous kitten, she tentatively dabbed the tip of his manhood with the tip of her tongue. He tasted… weird? It wasn’t anything remarkable, really. Until she licked him again. Oh. He tasted rather sweet, actually. 

She struggled wrapping her lips around him, it made her jaw ache and her eyes water. So she focused on the head of his cock, suckling and nibbling and doing what she hoped was something that would be pleasing for the Fertility God. She wasn’t aware he was awake until the duvet was pulled away. Blinking blearily, she adjusted to the onslaught of light, glancing between a thoroughly amused Thor and a rather irritable looking Loki.

“Do I not deserve to be woken up in such a manner?” the Jötunn god pouted. Thor snorted with mirth. “Oh, of course you would find that funny, brother. After all, it’s your mighty weapon that she’s suckling like a milk deprived kitten!”

Sága pulled her head away, suddenly nervous and unsure of herself. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“Hm? No, little lamb.” Thor gave her an encouraging smile. “I need to check on my children, however. Why don’t you spend a bit of time with Loki?”

“Okay…” She blinked rapidly. “You’re not just saying that, are you? If I was bad, I’d like to know…”

Thor ruffled her hair affectionately. “You were wonderful, little one. It was a wonderful way to wake up.” He pulled her up until she was straddling his belly, making her giggle when he tickled her sides. He then pulled her down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I shall see you both at breakfast.”

He got up, leaving Sága with Loki, who wasted no time in pinning her beneath him, catching her by surprise. As Thor got dressed, Loki slipped his hand between Sága’s thighs, teasing at her sex, pressing heated, possessive kisses down her neck and over her breasts, leaving her utterly breathless. 

The minute Thor vacated the room, however, Loki pushed himself up and ignored her protests, huffing like a petulant child. 

“It is clear to see that you favour my brother.”

“Huh?”

“You woke him up and… was I never a thought?” he sneered, the effect lost by the way he had his arms crossed over his chest like a toddler with a tantrum brewing in them. 

“Maybe it’s because he’s _ nice _to me!” Sága exclaimed, tears rushing to her eyes. “You’re such a bully to me!”

“A bully?” He whipped his head around so fast his hair smacked her in the face. “You think I am a bully?”

When she nodded, he gave a dark laugh, slowly pushing her down onto her back, looming over her like a starving predator about to devour its dinner. “Oh, my darling Sága, I’m _ so _much worse than any bully you’ve ever met. Do not test me.”

“Or what?”

He blanched. “Excuse me?”

“Or what? What will you do to me?” she demanded, glaring at him with the same petulance he was exhibiting. 

His eyes narrowed.

“Hold your tongue, demon.”

“Hold yours!” she retorted, smacking her fists into his chest. “You’ve been threatening me from the moment we met! You played on my fears, you made me believe you were going to… that you were going to rape me! You made me terrified and scared and then when Thor showed up, he was so nice and warm, so are you surprised by the fact that I might prefer him? When you are a horrible person to me! Why would I favour you over him? You’re horrible and I hate you and I don’t want to _ ever _ see you ever again!” 

She squeezed her way out from underneath him, bristling with anger in a way that made her fists clench and her skin burn. She didn’t bother finding any clothes to get dressed into, she didn’t bother looking back at him on the bed, she just left the room and returned to her own chambers, where she subsequently screamed into her pillow, frustrated and upset with everything. 

She had to go home sooner rather than later, because she couldn’t take much more of this! She wanted to go home to Sökkvabekkr, to her grandmother Kelda, to her great-uncle Havi, to her uncle and aunt and cousin, she’d even tolerate her father if she had to, she just wanted to leave and never, ever see that horrible Jötunn ever again. 

She packed a few clothes into a satchel, she snuck a few snacks from the kitchen, she dressed herself in an overlarge traveling cloak that made her stumble and trip more often than not. She snuck into the stables where some of the residents of Bilskirnir were feeding and grooming the various animals, trying to find a suitable steed to take her home. But then there was the question of getting out of Bilskirnir, she couldn’t very well scale a wall with a horse, could she?

She heard the iron gates being drawn up, a caravan of horses and carts entering carrying various items. Thinking fast, Sága grabbed the nearest animal she could reach - which ended up being a feral-looking mountain goat with mismatched eyes and curved horns that she used to steer the poor thing out of the stables - forcing the goat to chase towards the slowly closing gates. 

She heard her name being called but she ignored it, focusing on the task at hand. She ducked her head down to avoid being decapitated by an iron spike, her heart racing as her and the goat escaped Bilskirnir with most of their dignity intact. 

They raced down the mountain path and didn’t look back once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't ride goats, kids  
I guess ???


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sága has a change of heart

Tanngrisnir, as she had dubbed the goat, was not suitable for riding. He was uncomfortable, he was frankly inelegant, but worst of all, he constantly tried to eat her clothes. She thought she’d be able to bond with the feral beast but apparently not. Maybe she should have thought her plan through a bit better before acting on impulse.

She was miserable.

She was cold and tired and she missed Bilskirnir more than she had realised she would. She’d been there less than a week, but the stark contrast between Thor’s home and hers was astounding. Sökkvabekkr had long since lost its warmth for her, it felt more like a prison. Bilskirnir had felt like freedom. It had felt like…

Home.

She was upset enough to forget about her bruised pride, returning to Bilskirnir with her tail between her legs, leading Tanngrisnir along the steep path promising to feed him as many articles of clothing as he wanted once they were back home. Of course, she had plans to feed him a certain blue bastard’s clothing, the thought of which made her all the more eager to return.

The iron gate was raised already, as though anticipating her return. She didn’t know whether or not to be offended. She opted for relief that she didn’t have to figure out a way of slipping inside, imagining herself piggybacking Tanngrisnir over the wall. 

Bilskirnir was bustling as per usual, a few golden haired children waving at her as she walked on by leading the goat back to his warm stable. She winced at the damage they had left behind during their escape, hoping she wouldn’t get into serious trouble. 

She fed and watered Tanngrisnir, promising to find him some lovely clothes to chew on as soon as possible. She bid him farewell before sneaking back into the Hall and making her way to her chambers, where she proceeded to hide in her hideyhole and nibble on the snacks she had procured from the kitchen earlier that day.

Strangely, the first person to come and find her was Járnsaxa. The pregnant Jötunn settled on the end of Sága’s bed, waiting patiently for her to crawl out of her hideyhole. “You were gone two hours.”

“Oh.” She’d thought she’d been gone longer.

“I know what they did was rather unorthodox. But how else would they be able to bring you here?” Járnsaxa smiled fondly when Sága crawled over to her, resting her head on her knee, allowing the mother to stroke Sága’s soft locks, treating her the way she had never been treated before. 

“They never let me go out,” Sága whispered, “I had to sneak out a lot of the time. They were scared of losing me like they lost Mama. I miss them so much but… for the first time, I feel… free?”

“Tell me, child…” Járnsaxa continued petting Sága’s head as she spoke. “Did they ever hurt you?”

Sága shook her head.

“N-No. Um… sometimes, I wouldn’t be allowed dinner. Or if I’d been naughty, they’d lock me in my room. Sometimes my Papa would get angry and start shouting and blaming me for my Mama’s death, but I don’t understand how it was my fault, but he never listened to me, so I used to… I used to hide myself under the bed because I was scared. But that doesn’t count, does it?” Sága looked at Járnsaxa, unsure with herself. “If he only shouted at me?”

“Sága…” Járnsaxa sighed. “No child should cower in fright from their parents. What he did to you was wrong. Your family were wrong to keep you isolated. You are safe here, I promise you. Many of the women here are survivors from broken homes and marriages. We come here to start a new life, away from the abuse of our partners and our family. You are here because you deserve to be free and enjoy life fully. Do you understand?”

Sága nodded. 

“Good girl. Now, why don’t we go and find those pesky brothers, eh? I think you owe them an apology for scaring them so much.”

“I didn’t mean to scare them… this is just really scary for me…” Sága closed her eyes, not truly thinking about what she was saying when she blurted out, “I wish you were my Mama, Járnsaxa. I never knew my Mama. She was a Valkyrie, she was strong and fearless and powerful, I wish she was alive. I wish I had a Mama…”

“Oh…” Járnsaxa forced herself not to cry. She pulled the young goddess into a warm embrace, kissing away her tears. “I will look after you, I promise.”

Járnsaxa intended on keeping that promise. Nobody would hurt the little goddess like that ever again. Not while there was still breath in her body. 

* * *

The dining hall was full of screaming children and exasperated parents, lunchtime in full swing. Sága spotted Loki sitting at the far end of the farthest away table in the corner, brooding over his plate of meat and vegetables. Nobody dared sit near him. 

She crept up behind him and silently hugged him from behind, pressing her face into his back. He stiffened momentarily before relaxing. Just as silent as her, he reached around and pulled her down onto his lap, hooking one arm around her waist to keep her steady. He started feeding her morsels from his plate, neither of them saying a word. They both appreciated the comfortable silence.

His free hand came to rest at the base of her neck, and she thought nothing of it as she continued eating his lunch. His hand drifted down, but again, she didn’t think anything of it, she merely reached for a cup of water and started taking a sip. She choked on her water when he squeezed her breast.

“Shhh…” he whispered, extracting the cup from her and setting it back down on the table. He didn’t seem to care that they were in a public setting, maybe this was his way of punishing her. Either way, she didn’t feel the urge to stop him when he continued squeezing and toying with her breast, pinching her nipple through the thin material of the tunic she was wearing. 

His other hand dipped down between her legs, a slight gasp escaping him. “No undergarments?” 

“I forgot to put any on…” she admitted, earning herself a chuckle from Loki. 

“Good.” He took her hand and guided it down, manipulating her fingers into the correct position to start stroking herself. “Just like that…”

She bit down on her lip, suppressing a small moan. She was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot and bothered, a need in her persisting, one that she didn’t wish to quench in public. She turned her wide doe eyes upon Loki and whispered, “Would you take me to your chambers, please?”

“Whyever for?”

“Because I want you to keep touching me but I don’t…” She glanced around shyly, noticing that nobody was paying them any attention. She turned back to face him, annoyed by his smirk. She pressed a firm kiss to his lips, to silence him more than anything else. 

She found herself being picked up, squealing in surprise when Loki tossed her over his shoulder and started carrying her out of the dining hall. Again, nobody seemed to pay them any heed, no doubt because the children were causing too much of a ruckus. It wasn’t a long walk to Loki’s chambers, but Sága spent the entire journey there squirming and struggling to free herself, indignant at being manhandled in such a way. He smacked her backside when she threatened to bite him, laughing at her misfortune.

Once they entered his chambers, Sága was suitably distracted by how beautiful it was. Dark wood, emerald green and gold fabrics, bookshelves overflowing with books and scrolls and ancient tomes. In the centre was a bed whose size could rival Thor’s own bed. 

As soon as she was put down, Sága stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed, sitting at the very centre surrounded by soft furs and pillows, nervously pulling at a loose thread as she waited for Loki’s reaction.

“Eager, are we?” he teased. She chose to ignore his words, focusing on his body as he undressed himself at an agonisingly slow pace. Frustrated, Sága crawled to the end of the bed and reached for him, tugging impatiently at his trousers. He laughed, gently pushing her away from him. “Relax. We are in no hurry.”

He cupped her cheeks, smiling fondly down at her. Sága let out a warbling moan when he pressed his lips to hers, gasping when his tongue slipped inside her mouth. Her hands ran down the length of his bare chest, greedily feeling the hard muscle, tracing the runic markings that lined his blue flesh, dragging her fingernails across his stomach and then down to his groin. Her hands wrapped around his impressive length, stroking and caressing, excited by how firm he was in her grasp. 

“Mm…” Loki broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to be so gentle, little demon. I like it rough.”

Just as she was about to kiss him again, the chamber doors burst open. Sága shrieked, shaking from the shock of being disturbed, grateful for Loki holding onto her possessively.

“Loki!” Thor panted, cheeks flushed bright red, chest heaving. “We have a problem!”

“I’m busy, Thor. I’m sure it can wait-”

“Sága’s family are here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who said life was ever going to be simple for our lost goddess?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter?!?! What madness is this?!?!?!

Bragi Burison was a talented Skald and the infamous God of Poetry. He was renowned for his shapeshifting abilities and known throughout the Nine Realms for his tumultuous relationship with a fallen Valkyrie, Hildegunn. It was very rare to find the bardic god away from his preferred mead halls; it was rare to find Bragi willingly visiting the God of Thunder at his own hall. 

But Buri Burison was, if anything, unpredictable. He had waited long enough for his child to return, but she hadn’t. He had heard the rumours of words spoken by the Norns to the brothers, he had heard on the wind tales of his daughter being kidnapped and used by those two monsters. He had to bring her back home. It was for her own good! 

A large speckled eagle landed on the wall that surrounded Bilskirnir, golden eyes flashing in the sunlight. Some of the children stared up at the strange spectacle, a few of them cooing, one preferring to show his appreciation for the winged deity by throwing a rock at them. The eagle squawked indignantly, hopping out of range of the rambunctious toddler. 

“Modi!” Sif scolded, lightly smacking her son’s bottom. “Do not be rude to our guests!”

Sif joined Járnsaxa in observing the eagle. Sif noticed how tense the pregnant Jötunn was, though she didn’t voice any concerns she might have, perhaps because she had Magni with her. “Magni,” Sif said gently, “Why don’t you go and play with Modi? I have to speak with your mother for a moment in private.”

Járnsaxa didn’t say anything when Magni jumped out of her arms and ran off to find Modi. Sif placed her hand on the Jötunn woman’s shoulder. “What is worrying you, Saxa?”

“Something Little Sága told me. About how her father treated her.” Járnsaxa’s brow furrowed when the eagle swooped down and landed, and not two seconds later Thor appeared, behind which trailed an irate Loki and a very scared looking Sága. Immediately, Sága ran towards Járnsaxa, whimpering as the Jötunn woman held her protectively. “Shh, shh, you are safe here.”

“Járnsaxa… he’s going to take me away!” 

“He won’t, I promise.”

The eagle shifted into the form of a lanky, rather disheveled looking man who looked as if a light breeze would push him over. Brilliant blue eyes that matched his daughter’s studied his surroundings cautiously. 

“Why did you bring my daughter to your concubine’s nest?” Bragi demanded.

Járnsaxa bristled. “Hold your tongue, Oathbreaker!” she snarled, showing off her sharp incisors. “You dare call this a concubine’s nest when we are all aware of the sordid affairs  _ you  _ have commited-”

“ _ Járnsaxa!  _ Peace.” Thor held his hand up, staring at his Jötunn lover until she reluctantly backed down, though she maintained her steely, ice-cold glare on Bragi. 

Bragi looked towards his cowering daughter, offering her a tentative smile. “Little one,” he cooed, extending a hand out towards her, “Come home, my little one. We all miss you terribly. Bygul misses you, he’s been sleeping on your bed fretting every night. Your grandmother is lonely without you, and so am I. Come home, little one. Come home to me.”

“Bygul’s been missing me?” Sága whispered, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. She didn’t want her cat to be upset because of her. She did miss him terribly, she was ashamed to admit she hadn’t given him much thought until now. 

“Yes, my dear.” Bragi exploited that shred of weakness she was showing, using it to his own advantage. “He hasn’t been eating since you were taken. He’s half-starved, we fear he may not survive much longer.”

Sága burst into tears. 

“Oh no!” She ran towards her father and threw herself at him. “I have to go back to him! I have to bring him here! He’ll be safe here-”

Bragi pushed her back, stunned.

“Bring him back here? You wish to… to return here?”

“Well… yes.” 

Bragi’s face contorted. He grabbed Sága’s arm and squeezed hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“I will kill your cat if you dare come back to this filthy whores den.”

Sága tried to back away. “No, you can’t! You can’t! Loki! Thor! Please, tell him he can’t do that!” She wrenched herself free of her father, running towards the two gods. Loki grabbed her first, holding her close to him, a dagger drawn and aimed threateningly at Bragi. Thor took her hand to reassure her, electricity crackling in the atmosphere, dark storm clouds brewing.

“You would be so cruel to your own flesh and blood?” Thor rumbled in a voice like thunder. 

“You kidnapped her!” Bragi retorted. “She is  _ my  _ daughter! She belongs in Sökkvabekkr!”

“She belongs here, where she has freedom!” Jarnsaxa shouted. “You have been depriving her of freedom since the day she was born. Blaming her for her own mother’s death, when we all know  _ you  _ were to blame!”

Silence.

Sága blinked. 

“What does that mean?” she asked in a trembling voice. “Járnsaxa, what do you mean?” When she didn’t answer, she turned to her father, who looked stricken and pale. “Papa? Papa, what does she mean? What does she mean, you were to blame for Mama’s death? You said she died in glorious battle…”

“She was going to take you away.” Bragi’s voice went dark and brooding, his Skaldic magic enveloping them all as he began to weave his tale. “She was going to leave me all alone. She believed I had cast an enchantment on her, that I had manipulated her into being with me. Preposterous…”

The gathering began to feel lightheaded, entranced, completely devoted to every single syllable being uttered by the God of Poetry. Only Sága remained unaffected, eyes wide and fearful as her father continued to cast his spell on them.

“She was going to take you away from me. And I just couldn’t let that happen, little one. You were all I had left. So I took you from her. And when she fought me… well…” He gave a slight smirk, as though proud of himself. “Not even a Valkyrie can survive a knife through the heart.”

Sága’s world exploded around her. She fell to her knees, the breath ripped from her lungs. Her body was numb. Everything was numb. 

And then her father grabbed her and started dragging her away from Thor and Loki. “No!” she screamed. “NO!” 

Nobody helped her. They couldn’t. Bragi’s enchantment was still in effect. 

Except, nobody could trick a trickster. For Sága was suddenly torn away from her father, screaming at the sight of a dagger protruding out of her father’s chest. 

“Papa!” 

She tried to reach for him, screaming in horror as her father collapsed into a heap, stone cold dead.

“PAPA!” She turned to face Loki, whose dagger was the one embedded in her father’s chest. He looked proud of himself. “You… you… killed him.”

“You’re welcome.”

_ “You’re welcome? YOU’RE WELCOME?!”  _ Sága lunged at Loki, sobbing and screaming shrilly. “YOU KILLED MY FATHER! WHY SHOULD I BE GRATEFUL FOR THAT? YOU. KILLED. MY. FATHER!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

Sága staggered back away from him. Suddenly it all made sense.

“He was telling the truth…” she whispered. “You kidnapped me. You were going to make me one of your… concubines. You don’t care about me. You… you just… you took me from my home…” She stumbled to the ground, hesitantly pressing her hand over the stab wound. She frowned. “Wait, what-”

Bragi’s eyes shot open. He grabbed her roughly, hidden bonds wrapping around her. She screamed shrilly, howling in anguish when he shapeshifted into the form of an eagle and carried her away in his talons, the enchantment breaking the instant they had vanished over the mountains.

Thor rounded on his brother, who was in a state of shock. 

“YOU FOOL!” He bellowed, thunder booming through the cold mountain air. “She will NEVER forgive us for this!”

“He was supposed to be dead…” 

“Clearly not!” Thor ran his hand through his hair frantically. “We need to get her back.”

“I’ll go,” Sif volunteered. “You two are clearly useless at any of this. I will go and rescue Sága.”

“Why would you risk your own life to save her?” Loki spat out. 

“Because she deserves freedom. She does not deserve to be manipulated by her own father. I know what that is like, to be manipulated and abused by one’s own parents.” Sif gave Loki a stoic look. “Why did you try to kill her own father before her very eyes?”

“I… I... “ Loki closed his eyes, a sob of anguish escaping him. “I cannot lose her. Please, Sif, I know you mistrust me, I know you dislike me, but please, I need to come with you. I need to make amends. I need to explain that I… I… that I love her. And I need her to return home safe. I cannot lose her… I cannot lose another loved one…”

Sif’s expression softened.

“Very well.” She turned to Thor. “Coming, husband?”

“Of course.” He gave a weak smile to his wife. “I need to ensure you don’t end up killing my brother, after all.”

Sif smirked. “I doubt your presence would prevent my efforts.”

* * *

Bygul was safe and sound in her arms, purring in contentment. 

Bragi had deceived her. First by proclaiming her cat to be near death. Then by manipulating his image so it appeared that Loki had stabbed and killed him. He was well aware the trickster wouldn’t succumb to his Skaldic power, so he had decided to twist the situation to his own advantage. 

Sága stayed curled up in her bed, staring at the bars that had been newly fastened to the outside of her windows. She couldn’t climb out of the window to escape into the forest. She couldn’t leave her room without an escort. There were two guards stationed outside her room at all times, a safety measure according to Bragi. He didn’t want her being abducted again.

She wiped away her tears when a servant entered the room carrying a tray of food. “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat.”

Sága frowned. The servants never spoke to her usually. 

“I said I’m not hungry.” She sat up, kicking the tray out of the servant’s hand and sending her dinner across the floor in a disgusting mess. “Now leave me ALONE!”

“Now, now, is that any way to speak to your favourite deity?” a familiar voice crooned. Sága recoiled when green magic flickered over the form of the servant, exposing the trickster himself. “Ta-da!”

“Why are you here?” she demanded. 

“I’m here to take you home.”

“But… this is my home…”

“Is it? Or is it your prison?”

When she didn’t answer, Loki rolled his eyes. “Pack the essentials, I will store them somewhere safe. We don’t have long, Thor and Sif are distracting your father’s guards.”

Once she had all her essentials, along with her cat Bygul tucked under her arm, Loki grabbed her and whispered, “Close your eyes.”

She closed her eyes. The ground shifted beneath her feet. And then… she opened her eyes and found herself in an unfamiliar location, the sound and smell of the ocean wafting in through an open window.

“Where are we?” she asked. 

“This is my Hall. A rather humble abode compared to Thor’s, of course, but unlike him, I have nothing to compensate for.” He opened his arms out wide. “A thank you would be most appreciated.”

Her attention was drawn to the window. Something had caught her attention, something dark protruding from out of the stormy sea. It shifted, moving seamlessly through the waves. She ignored Loki as she approached the open window, clutching her cat close to her chest, eyes widening as a gigantic serpentine head broke free of the water, its onyx scales glistening in the barely-existent light breaking through the grey storm clouds. A crimson eye fixated on her, a long forked tongue darting out to taste the air. 

She froze, hardly daring to breathe.

“W-W-What is that…” she whimpered, flinching involuntarily when Loki placed his hands on her shoulders, his chin coming to rest on top of her head. 

“Jörmungandr. The World Serpent. He is harmless.”

“Is he…? He looks like he wants to eat me…”

“Like father like son,” Loki sighed wistfully.

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

He closed the window and gently took Bygul from her, letting the cat stretch his legs and wander around the Hall, which wasn’t a Hall but more like a cottage, a cottage by the sea. 

“Where are we?” Sága asked again, slipping her hand into his mostly to keep herself reassured.

“Some call this place The Bay of Serpents. Others call it by its proper name: Gandvik. We are on Midgard, child. At least for the time being. Thor thought it prudent we should get accustomed to one another before the binding ceremony.”

“Oh, okay-  _ binding ceremony?!” _

Loki shrugged nonchalantly. 

“If we are to keep you safe from your father, we will have to ensure you are bound to us. Therefore, come the next full moon, we will be bound together in marriage. But don’t worry,” he added with a sly grin, “I’ll still let you play with my brother.”

Sága had no words left to say. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fishing with a one-eyed old man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my best work this chapter but I'm hoping the next will be better

Gandvik was cold and miserable but at least she was allowed outside. Although, the first time she had stepped out of Loki’s cottage, she had been confronted by the sight of an enormous serpentine head poking out of the water, blood red eyes fixed on her. 

Her confidence grew over the following weeks. Mostly because Loki was absent for most of the time, leaving Sága to her own devices. She took to walking along the beach with Bygul trotting along beside her, occasionally greeting Jörmungandr, who she quickly realised seemed more scared of her than she was of him. Curious indeed.

She tried not to think about her family. She tried not to think of the next full moon. She tried not to think about how her life was being manipulated against her will. She tried not to think about how everything was spiralling out of control. If she did, she would descend into madness. For now, at least, she could pretend she was all alone in the Nine Realms, with only a cat and a very large serpent to keep her company.

One cloudy morning, Sága came across a rowing boat that had been dragged onto the beach, leaving deep grooves in the gravel. Because she lacked anything better to do, she pushed the boat out into the water, took the oars in each hand, and started paddling in the vague direction of where she presumed Jörmungandr would be lurking. She had been observing him during the day, watching him slipping off into a cavern that only became visible above sea level when the tide was out. Since the tide was in, she would undoubtedly have to be patient.

Humming to herself, she wasn’t aware of the presence sharing the boat with her until someone loudly cleared their throat. Shrieking, Sága dropped both oars into the water, doing her best to get into a defensive position. 

“Peace, child.”

She squinted at the stranger. They had a long, scraggly beard that had seen better days. They wore clothes that had also seen better days, stained from the salt of the sea and from the ravages of time. There was a bandage wrapped around their head, covering their right eye, along with a wide brimmed hat that cast shadows across his lined, aged face.

“Who are you?” Sága asked suspiciously. She stretched down to retrieve one oar at a time, maintaining eye contact with the stranger. 

“My name is Gangari.” He took out a fishing rod from thin air. “I should be asking you why you stole my boat, child.”

“Oh. Oops.” Sága rubbed the back of her head, feeling decidedly awkward. “I was bored? I wanted to visit Jörmungandr… the big… you know, he’s the big… snake thing…” She trailed off, too caught up watching the old man casting his line out into the water. He had a pipe clenched between his teeth, pungent smoke wafting towards her and making her cough. “Do you come to Gandvik often?”

“Only when I find myself missing my brother.”

“Oh.” Sága had no idea what to say to that. “Does he live around here?”

“In a manner of speaking.” 

They stayed in a rather uncomfortable (at least in Sága’s opinion) silence for the next half hour, as Gangari caught fish after fish after fish. Sága had no idea what to do or say, after all she was in the wrong for stealing his boat. She focused on watching the horizon, thinking about who Gangari’s brother might be. So long as it wasn’t her father, she didn’t care who it was. Maybe Jörmungandr was his brother? The thought made her laugh.

“Tell me about yourself, Sága.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” she admitted, completely ignoring the fact that he apparently knew her name. “I’m much more interested in learning who  _ you  _ are.”

“A mere wanderer, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” she narrowed her eyes at him, observing every minute detail carefully. He kept a stoic, neutral expression on his face, smoke billowing from his pipe and wafting towards her yet again, causing her to cough and avert her gaze. 

“Why would you believe a stranger?” he asked slyly.

“But I don’t.” She frowned. “How do you know my name?”

“I know many things about you, Sága,” he answered cryptically.

“And yet you still asked for me to share my life story with you.”

“Sometimes it is better to hear a story through one’s own words, yes?”

Sága’s frown deepened.

“Who are you, really? You are no ordinary fisherman, are you? You are no lost, wandering soul. Tell me who you are.” And then, as an after-thought, she hastily added, “Please.”

Gangari’s lips stretched into a satisfied smile. “I go by many names, Sága. I am a Wanderer. I am a King. I am a Wise Old Man. I am the Bringer of Ravens. I am-”

Lightning tore across the sky.

“I am Odin.”

Sága started laughing. 

‘Odin’ seemed shocked by her reaction.

“You find it amusing?” he asked.

“Yes!  _ You _ are not Odin, you are… you are far too kindly for that!” Sága snorted a rather ugly laugh, but she didn’t care. The man was clearly deluded. “You are just some lonely old fisherman who is trying to scare me with such fanciful tales as vengeance for me stealing your boat.”

“A rather petty thing to seek vengeance for, is it not?” Gangari quipped. 

Sága shrugged. “People can be petty.”

“Would you count yourself as one of them?”

Sága shrugged again. “I haven’t quite decided if I am or not.” She was distracted by another bolt of lightning tearing across the darkening sky. “Perhaps it is time we return to shore. I do not want to get caught out in a thunderstorm.”

“We are gods, Sága. Thunder and lightning will cause us no harm.” 

“I would still rather not take the risk.” Sága shivered, wishing she had dressed warmer than she had done. “You are free to have lunch with me, Gangari. We could make a meal from the fish you caught.”

Gangari gave a slight nod, silently agreeing with her request. It didn’t take long for them to return to shore, with Sága helping the fisherman drag his rowing boat up the beach and out of reach of the incoming tide. She led him to the cottage, the pair of them remaining silent, a rather awkward silence, but one Sága was unwilling to break.

They prepared lunch together, Gangari focusing on descaling the fish, Sága focusing on cutting up vegetables. They worked seamlessly together, their fish soup speedily made and even more speedily consumed. 

Gangari stayed at the cottage for two whole days before Loki returned. Sága barely acknowledged him, annoyed he had abandoned her for so long. She chose to spend the day fishing with Gangari, who seemed amused more than anything by the way she was treating Loki. Loki, for his part, didn’t react to Gangari’s presence until Sága was outside, where he proceeded to push the old man against the wall, glaring at him furiously.

“Why are you here?” he demanded. “If you have touched her-”

“I have not touched her.” The old man smirked. “Although would you blame me if I did? She is beautiful.”

“And mine.”

“I was under the impression she was also Thor’s.” 

“Hold your tongue, old man!” Loki spat. “Why are you here, really?”

The old man chuckled heartily. 

“GANGARI!” Sága called from outside. “Are you coming?”

“Why is she calling you Gangari?” Loki demanded. “Did you not explain to her who you really are?”

“I did,” the old man said, “But she did not believe me.”

Loki rolled his eyes. Of course she wouldn’t believe Odin. She was naturally sceptical after what had transpired with her father in Bilskirnir. 

“Well then,  _ Gangari,  _ I suggest you teach the poor girl how to fish. Just be careful of what you catch.” 

She didn’t seem to be particularly enjoying herself. True, she had caught quite a few fish, but they were miniscule compared to Gangari’s growing pile, but she was huffing and puffing and looking increasingly like a drowned kitten. 

She cast the line out, one of Gangari’s pipes between her teeth, unlit because she couldn’t stand the putrid smoke. She found it helped her concentrate on fishing, not that she particularly cared about concentrating on fishing. 

Gangari’s fishing rod began to bend, almost snapping in half. Sága watched in awe as the old man stood up, using all his mighty strength to try and haul in his quarry. 

“Do you need any help?” Sága asked, worried when sweat began to trickle down the old man’s face. “Gangari, I think you should let go…”

In one fell swoop, the old man was yanked into the water. Sága screamed in shock when Jörmungandr’s large head burst out of the water, the fishing rod and Gangari dangling from his jaws. She watched in horror as the massive serpent flung his head back and swallowed the old man whole.

“Gangari!”

Jörmungandr then turned his crimson eyes upon her, forked tongue darting out to taste the air. Sága found herself becoming incredibly angry, smacking the serpent’s snout when he moved his head to rest on the rocks beside her.

“Spit him out! Now!”

Jörmungandr chose to ignore her.

“Spit. Him. Out. NOW!”

Jörmungandr shot her a filthy look but complied to her command. Moments later, Gangari and his broken fishing gear were spat out onto the beach. The World Serpent retreated back into the waves, eyes fixed on them both the entire time. Sága didn’t look away until he had disappeared beneath the surface of the water. 

“Gangari, are you alright?” she crouched down and checked to make sure he was still breathing. He wasn’t. She then realised it was because he was missing the bottom half of his body. “Oh… EW!” She backed away, grimacing in disgust. 

“Ew?” she heard a voice say from behind her. “You see my dead body and you only think to say ‘ew’?”

“What?” 

Sága turned around and saw Loki and the old man laughing at her. Only, the one man looked much more regal and resplendent than usual, with an eyepatch over his missing eye instead of a manky old bandage. 

“Oh. You weren’t lying. Hello, Allfather.” Sága kicked the half-eaten body by her feet. “We should bury Gangari.”

Their laughter died. 

“He’s not… it’s an illusion…” Loki snapped his fingers. The body by Sága’s feet vanished, along with his fishing gear. “We were playing a trick.”

“Oh. Okay. It was… amusing?” Sága walked past them with her own fishing gear, smirking to herself when they both sputtered and struggled to comprehend why she was being so obtuse. Fools. As if they could ever think to deceive her. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sága and Thor spend some time together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but sweet

It was a few days before the full moon when Thor visited Loki’s cottage.

Sága had been bored out of her mind, deciding to occupy her time by painting the bedroom walls a rainbow spectrum of colourful flowers and rainbows and fluffy animals. She was quite impressed with her efforts, and it seemed someone else shared the sentiment, a rich booming voice coming from behind her that said, “This is wonderful, little lamb. You have quite an eye for art!”

Sága dropped her paintbrush and spun around, squealing in delight. “Thor!” She threw herself into his arms, giggling when he lifted her high into the air before bringing her back down, kissing her sweetly on the lips. “I missed you!”

“And I missed you too, sweetheart.” Thor glanced around curiously. “Where is Loki?”

Sága scowled. “Out fishing with Odin.”

“Odin? Odin’s  _ here? _ ”

Sága nodded, clearly dismayed by the thought of those two fishing. 

“Hm. Maybe he is here for the wedding?”

“Maybe…” She shrugged, unwilling to think about her impending nuptials, preferring to instead start kissing Thor, leading him towards the sturdy bed.

He removed his clothes and spread himself out on the bed, allowing Sága to admire him in all his glory. He was the polar opposite of Loki: golden haired, golden skin, hairy and soft and muscular, like a friendly bear. 

“Come here.” He guided her up until she was straddling his face, removing her undergarments and pushing the hem of her long tunic up so she could see his face. He pressed his lips to her slit, his beard hair tickling her soft thighs and making her gasp out from the sensation. It felt… good. Better than good. Amazing… so amazing…

She was worried about suffocating him, but knew if he needed to breathe, he could easily push her away. Her hips rocked and undulated with every motion of his tongue and mouth, her hands grabbed the top of the headboard, bracing herself as pleasure started spiking through her. She was wet, so wet, she was completely overwhelmed, her eyes were rolling back, her body was tingling, she was gasping and moaning and panting harder and faster, louder and louder and louder, crying out his name like a desperate, pleading prayer.

She fell backwards, catching herself on his raised legs. Her legs were trembling, her inner thighs slick with her own arousal. She dipped her fingers down and brought them up to her lips, tasting herself more out of curiosity than anything else. 

“Clothes off,” Thor commanded. Sága removed the rest of her clothes, giggling when Thor pulled her down so he could start sucking and kissing her breasts, massaging and fondling them eagerly, a calloused hand coming down to start stroking her.

“Ohhh…” Sága shuddered, sensitive after her recent bout of stimulation. “Oh Norns…” Her breath caught in the back of her throat when one thick finger pushed into her. “Ah!” 

“Relax, my sweet girl.” Thor guided her down onto her back, bringing her legs up over his shoulders. She bit her bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering as her body arched and shuddered, his middle finger pumping in and out of her womanhood at a slow and steady pace. “Oh, I wish I could be your first…” he sighed wistfully, “I wish I could fill your little belly with my seed, over and over again. My little lamb, carrying my children. I would love that ever so much. But not now, not when you are still so young. Later, maybe. I will take you one night and bring you to the brink of pleasure again and again until you are begging for your own release, and then I will impregnate you, I will fill you with my seed, I will make you mine forever and always.”

Sága was sobbing from the overstimulation and the sheer amount of pleasure she was receiving by the time Thor brought her to another shuddering conclusion. “Tho-or!” Tears ran down her cheeks, her hands grabbing onto his arms, squeezing for dear life as she experienced another wave of blinding pleasure.  _ “Gods! Gods… please!” _

“Please what?” Thor whispered, pressing tender kisses down the inside of her thighs. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“You! I want you! Please! Please…”

“Oh lamb....” Thor leaned over her, kissing away her tears, stroking her hair out of her face, continuing to stroke and caress between her legs, smiling as though he wasn’t bringing her to the verge of complete oblivion. “I know you want me. I want you too. But later, once you and Loki are bound together. I will have my way with you.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise.”

He kissed her tenderly, bringing her around so she wasn’t being crushed beneath him, stroking his rough hands down her back and to her bottom, squeezing and fondling her with an enthusiasm she found infectious. 

She explored his body, kissing down his furry chest, pressing her fingers into the soft layer of flesh covering his hard muscles. She enjoyed squishing his fat, she enjoyed how soft and warm and hard he was, she loved being enveloped by his arms, she felt so safe and secure with him, so loved and wanted and needed...

After some time, they ventured to the kitchen to have something to eat, both of them naked and uncaring, not even when Loki and Odin came inside stinking of fish. They had both been laughing, but the instant they saw the two of them at the kitchen table feeding fruit to one another, the laughter died. 

“Son,” Odin said, giving a slight nod before putting his fishing equipment down.

“Father.” Thor pulled Sága onto his lap, holding her to him with one meaty arm wrapped around her waist. “Brother.”

“Thor.”

Loki loudly set down his caught fish into the sink, kicking his boots off before storming out of the room. Sága rolled her eyes, choosing to leave him alone to sulk. She focused on finishing her impromptu lunch with Thor, only stopping when she heard an outraged cry coming from the bedroom, followed by Loki bellowing her name. 

She grinned to herself. Served him right for tricking her. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some reassurance is required

Life had certainly changed for Sága since being kidnapped by two powerful deities. She had freedom for the first time, freedom to explore the Nine Realms and live her life the way she wanted it to be lived. She could breathe in fresh air and not feel guilty for sneaking out, she could explore the woods and swim in the ocean, she could do anything, there was nothing standing in her way!

Except, of course, there was. Because she was about to bind herself to the God of Mischief himself. It was a simple ceremony, witnessed by only a select few, the purpose of which was to ensure Bragi had no power over her any more. She… liked Loki, she did. Maybe in time she would love him. But his ever-changing attitude towards her was starting to wear thin, she was starting to dread the thought of being his wife. She wanted to spend more time with Thor, not because she favoured him, but because he made her feel safe and secure. Loki didn’t. And right now, she wanted to be comforted. 

Sága was wearing a light blue dress that sat against her skin delicately. She loved her dress, truly she did. It was a shame that Loki seemed to dislike it so much. The minute he had seen her walking towards him in her pretty dress, he had scoffed in derision and curtly denounced whoever had created the dress to ‘never make dresses ever again’. Sága was close to tears by that point. Was this him showing his true colours? Was this the plan all along? Maybe Bragi was in on it, maybe this was the only way he could get rid of her, why would he want her around, anyway, when she constantly reminded him of the woman he had killed with his own dagger.

She kept a good few feet between herself and Loki, keeping her head bowed as she listened to Frigg ordain them. Sága glanced up at Járnsaxa, who was wearing a beautiful midnight blue dress which emphasised her growing bump, Magni tucked up in her arms. The Jötunn woman noticed the tears in Sága’s eyes, her lips thinning when she realised it was because of Loki’s previous comment. 

Sága’s attention diverted to Thor, who was standing off to the side with Sif, holding the Goddess affectionately, exchanging soft, intimate kisses that made Sága’s innards clench with a strange feeling. She looked away, glad her hair was hiding her face so nobody would see how much she was crying. 

Nobody wanted her. She was just… another broodmare. She was just another person to play with. Her father didn’t want her, not really. Her family despised her, they had to hate her if they thought imprisoning her was for her own good. Thor was married, he would never love her, he would never be loyal to her and only her. Járnsaxa had a child and another on the way, she couldn’t very well babysit a miserable young goddess. Odin stank of fish. And Loki… well, Loki clearly wanted nothing to do with her. 

She hadn’t realised it had gone silent until Frigg said in a loud whisper, “Sága? You need to repeat what I say.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s part of the ceremony, dear.”

“Well, it’s stupid.” Sága pushed the hair out of her face, exposing her red-raw eyes and anguished expression. “All of this is stupid!” 

She grabbed the bottom of her dress and ripped it. A few of the gathered party gasped. 

“What are you doing?” Loki demanded. 

“Ripping this ugly dress! You don’t like it, so why should I keep wearing it?” Sága tore into the dress until she had completely destroyed it, leaving herself in a thin chemise. She stomped on the tattered remains of her wedding dress for good measure, almost choking on her sobs, but she didn’t care, she just wanted to lash out, it was stupid! All of this was stupid! She just wanted to go home but she had no home, nobody wanted her, she was a nuisance, she was ugly, she was stupid, she just wanted to go home!

She stormed off, leaving behind a shocked wedding party. Making her way to the stables, she found Tanngrisnir, who had been spruced up for the wedding, flowers woven into his long beard. She carefully pulled herself onto his back and, with the reins she had specially made for him during her days of boredom at Gandvik, urged him into exiting the stables. 

She pulled on a coat she had found abandoned by one of the garden benches, shivering as the wind began to pick up and thunder began to rumble off in the distance. She had no intention of leaving Bilskirnir, not after her last failed attempt, but it was large enough for her to find some solitude for a few hours away from anyone and everyone else.

She didn’t know how to be a mature person, not really. She had been sheltered for most of her life, her only companions her books and her cat. She was… unaccustomed to dealing with social situations. She didn’t understand people. She barely understood herself! But she understood Tanngrisnir, she understood Bygul, who had joined them on their impromptu ride, she understood the peace she received when surrounded by animals. 

Nobody came to find her. She didn’t want them to, but it still stung to know that she hadn’t been missed. When she returned Tanngrisnir to the stables, it was pouring down with rain, soaking her coat and chemise until she was left a shivering, teeth-chattering mess. 

Wandering down the corridors in the vague direction of her chambers, she heard laughter and merriment coming from the banquet hall. Her stomach lurched uncomfortably. Of course they’d be celebrating. They were undoubtedly under the impression she had gone for good. That’s what she was. Unwanted and unloved.

She had drawn herself a bath, submerging herself in warmth and bubbles, her eyes sore from how much she’d been rubbing her tears away. She didn’t hear the knock on her chamber door, she did however hear somebody entering the room. Fortunately for her she was in the bathing chamber that was attached to her main chambers, so she had time to brace herself before being interrupted by Járnsaxa.

“Sága…”

“Why does nobody love me?”

Járnsaxa’s heart broke.

“Oh… Sága… we do love you. All of us love you.” She awkwardly sat down on the stool by the bath, bringing her blue arms down into the bubbles to pull Sága out. She wrapped a fluffy towel around the little goddess, holding her as a mother would her child. 

“I heard you all celebrating… you all sounded happy I wasn’t there…” Sága choked back a sob. “I was never allowed at special dinners. I didn’t like them when I was younger, so I used to act up, but when I was older I wanted to meet new people, but my Papa never let me. Why does everyone hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Sága. We all adore you. Magni adores you. Thrud and Modi adore you. Sif adores you, Thor adores you… even Loki, in his own way, adores you.”

“No he doesn’t!” Sága buried her face into Járnsaxa’s neck. “He mocked my dress! I picked the colours myself! I was so happy with it! I really liked it, it was one of the first things that was what I wanted to wear, not what I was made to wear. And he ruined it!”

“Oh,  _ little one _ …” 

Sága soon exhausted herself, so Járnsaxa carried her to bed, making sure she was dressed in a soft nightgown before tucking her in and kissing her brow, bidding her to get some rest. As soon as Járnsaxa left the room, she went on the warpath. Nobody hurt her Sága. Nobody. 

A certain Trickster was going to pay.

“YOU!”

Loki had been in the middle of rearranging the kitchen when Járnsaxa burst into the room, bristling with unbridled rage. 

“You need to apologise to Sága NOW!”

“Whatever for?” he drawled.

Silence.

A split second later, Loki found himself being thrown out of the kitchen by a rampaging mother bear. “Go to her chambers, get into her bed, do whatever you must to make her know that you love her! If you don’t, I will castrate you, Trickster, and then I will feed your innards to the ravens. Go to her. NOW!”

Loki stumbled, nearly falling face first onto the stone floor. He gathered what little composure he had left, dusted himself off, saluted Járnsaxa, and then used his magic to teleport directly into Sága’s chambers.

He had expected her to be in her bed. She wasn’t. He noticed that the window was open. Oh no. Had she…? What if she…? He ran to the window and leaned over, searching for any sign of her. He couldn’t see her. Oh no. No. No no no! This was his fault, his fault for feeling petty about Thor and her mingling at his cottage. He was a stupid man, a stupid foolish man! She was gone, she was gone and it was his fault-!

“Loki?”

He spun around, exhaling shakily. “I thought you had left me!” he cried out, not caring about showing how vulnerable he felt in that moment. He ran towards her and grabbed her, holding her close to him, crying into her shoulder. “Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me, I need my little beastie here with me, I cannot lose another person I love… please, stay with me. Please.”

“You really hurt my feelings!” she said in a muffled tone. “I thought you hated me!”

“No! I don’t hate you, demon. I lo-” He pulled back for a moment, unsure of himself. “I love you.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him, head tilting to one side. “Why?”

“I-” He frowned. “Is that important right now?”

“Um… well, I suppose…” She squealed when he all of a sudden lifted her up and tossed her down onto the bed. “Loki!”

He grinned wolfishly. 

“Yes?”

He started pressing heated kisses down her body, grunting and growling like a feral beast. She loved it… she loved it so much… the feeling of his breath on her bare skin… the way he pulled her nightgown away… his tongue between her legs… 

“Will you - will you… will you be my first?” she blurted out.

Loki lifted his head, licking his fingers clean, eyes sparkling with delight. “It would be my sincere pleasure, little beastie.”

And with that, he lowered his head back down and brought her to her first shuddering climax of the evening.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what does the future hold?

They’d been in her chambers for a day and a half before they decided to emerge for food. Loki had the smuggest smirk on his face, whilst Sága looked just as coy as ever, holding onto Loki’s hand like a lifeline.

Loki guided her towards Thor, seemingly not minding when she crawled into his brother’s lap and embraced him. “Hello, little lamb,” Thor whispered, kissing her cheek, “Have you been having lots of fun with Loki?”

She nodded shyly, curling up in his arms, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder. Thor indulged her, carrying on with his meal as though there had been no interruptions. He nodded his head at Loki when the Jötunn sat down opposite him, Járnsaxa on one side, Frigg on the other. 

“I hope this means the wedding will be going ahead,” Frigg commented nonchalantly.

“Of course,” Loki confirmed, winking at Sága when she peered up at him. “It would be uncouth for my beloved to remain unwed after being debauched so thoroughly.”

“Loki!” she whined, burying her face into Thor’s chest to hide her red cheeks.

“I’m glad you took my advice, Trickster,” Járnsaxa said, shooting Loki a sharp glare when he rolled his eyes at her. 

“Of course I took your ‘advice’, Járnsaxa. I was afraid of the consequences if I didn’t.” Loki reached for a mug of warm ale and drank from it, smirking when Sága looked at him again, her cheeks still bright red. “It seems you’ve got a great ally in Járnsaxa, beastie.”

Sága didn’t know what to say to that, so she just buried her face against Thor again, listening to his heart, relaxing in his arms enough to start dropping off. She was half-asleep by the time lunch was over and done with, forgetting to feed herself in her need for sleep. She didn’t protest when Thor carried her back to her chambers, she didn’t protest when both he and Loki got into bed with her, trapping her between their strong bodies.

The wedding ceremony happened the next morning, going off without a hitch. Sága wore a brand new dress almost identical to her torn one, smiling the entire time Frigg spoke. It seemed to pass in a blink of the eye, for she was finally married to Loki. 

Bragi was not impressed.

He barged in on their celebrations later that night, shouting and ranting like a man possessed. However, neither Sága nor Loki were present: they were enjoying their wedding night. Bragi, sensing he had been bested, left for Sökkvabekkr, leaving Sága to finally enjoy her own personal freedom with people who actually loved and cared for her.

Bilskirnir was the home she had never expected to have. She was home. Finally. She was home.

* * *

_ Years Later… _

Sága had been brushing Tanngrisnir’s coarse fur when she heard a commotion coming from the nearby training area. She set aside her brush and put her flat shoes on, wandering towards the growing crowd. Sparks were flying off into the air, the sound of harsh words being exchanged making her hurry her pace. 

Pushing through the crowd, she sighed in dismay at the sight that lay before her. Odin and Thor had got into another argument, which had grown more frequent since Thor’s ascension to Allfather of the Nine Realms. It seemed Odin, whilst the one to willingly pass the mantle over to his son, didn’t care much for some of Thor’s decisions. Namely employing a certain Trickster to be his chief advisor.

Sága was tired of the fighting. Truly tired of it all. She grabbed a nearby staff and whacked it across the back of Odin’s head and then whacked Thor in the chest. 

“Enough!” 

The two men pulled away, both of them scowling. 

“I have had enough with this immature behaviour!” Sága threatened to strike Odin again when he made to speak. “You are not the Allfather, Odin. You passed any say you had over to Thor. Respect his decisions. And you!” She rounded on Thor, who made to argue with her. “Respect your father! He loves you and wants only what is best for you and your family.”

She tossed the staff aside and put her hands on her hips. “Now embrace one another and apologise.”

“Sága! I am not a toddler!” Thor protested. “I do not owe him an apology.”

“Thor, you are acting like a toddler! Apologise now or I will ensure you never sire another child ever again.” 

Thor reluctantly embraced his father, the pair of them muttering harsh words to one another before reluctantly apologising. Sága nodded in approval, thanking them both for being mature. Then she turned and returned to Tanngrisnir, smiling when she noticed a certain Trickster leaning against the stable wall munching a green apple.

“You handled that marvellously well, beastie.”

“I know.” Sága went onto her tiptoes to take a bite of his apple, grinning when he tossed the apple core aside so he could grab her by the hips and pull her in closer, kissing her impatiently. “Eager, husband?”

“Always, wife.” 

She hugged him, smiling as he hugged her tightly, kissing down her neck. She felt content. So content. She had a family. She had a home. She had freedom. She never thought any of this was possible for her. 

On their way to their shared chambers, they bumped into Járnsaxa’s little boy Hrym, who was trying and failing to pick up a discarded sword. Sága clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Hrym, you know you are not supposed to wield real swords, remember what happened to Modi?” She bent down and gently picked him up, smiling softly when he started tearing up. Unlike any of Thor’s other children, Hrym sported a crop of fire-red hair just like his mother. He was also quick to tears and rather sensitive, a bit like his ‘sister’ Sága. 

Hrym curled up in her arms, fisting a handful of her hair. “Do you want your uncle Loki to show you some tricks?” she asked, bouncing him up and down as he started sobbing heavily. “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“He is seeking attention,” Loki muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Sága to hear. She scowled at him.

“He is a baby, Loki. Sometimes they cry for no reason. Last week, you cried because you thought chocolate fountains weren’t real.”

Loki didn’t have a retort to that. He simply scowled petulantly before reluctantly saying, “Fine. I’ll show him a few tricks.”

He proceeded to conjure up illusions of butterflies, who flew around Hrym’s head and dazzled the little boy. He started giggling, clapping his hands together excitedly, beaming at Loki and then Sága. 

“All better now?” Sága asked, laughing when Hrym nodded eagerly. “Did you want to play with your uncle Loki, is that why you were crying?” When he nodded again, she turned to Loki. “Maybe you were right. I think he’s been spending too much time around you, he’s basically your clone.”

Loki smirked. “As if they could ever hope to replicate perfection.”

The three of them went inside, joining the rest of the family in the dining hall. Hrym sat next to his big brother Magni, who was sitting next to Modi and Thrud. Járnsaxa was having a deep conversation with Sif, whilst Odin was waxing lyrical to Frigg. Thor sat in his seat at the head of the table, with Loki taking the seat to his left, Sága taking the seat to Thor’s right. Thor eyed her curiously for a moment.

“What?” she mouthed.

His eyes were shimmering. 

“Thor, what’s the matter?”

“You. You are glowing, little lamb.”

“Uh… thank you?” She turned her attention to the food on the table, reaching for a bowl of chopped carrots. A pungent scent reached her ears then, something which made her insides churn. In a split second, she bolted for the door, throwing up into an empty vase positioned right outside the dining hall doors. 

Járnsaxa joined her, cleaning her face with a wet cloth, stroking her hair out of the way. “All better?” she asked Sága, who nodded, grimacing at the aftertaste in her mouth. “Drink this.”

Sága drank deep from a cup of milky medicine. She felt instantly soothed, her stomach settling. She returned to the dining hall with Járnsaxa, smiling shyly when Modi ran over and asked if she was feeling okay.

“I’m feeling a little bit better now,” she said, crouching down so she could hug the boy. She was swiftly joined by Thrud, Magni, and Hrym, the four children worried about her wellbeing. She found herself becoming emotional, smiling as she wiped her tears away. “Thank you for being so caring, babies.”

“We love you, that’s why,” Thrud insisted. 

“I love you all too.”

Little did she know that soon, there would be a new arrival who she would love with all her heart. But, for now, she remained ignorant of her situation, indulging in cuddling with the four children, enjoying her life, her family, her freedom.

She was home. And it was the best feeling in the entire Nine Realms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I kinda rushed the ending, but I wanted to end it before it dragged on for too long. hope ya'll enjoyed it, wasn't intending on making it more than a one-shot but hey, that's life haha


End file.
